Treasure Box
by Gracewarbucks
Summary: This is a series of one shots about Grace and Oliver's trysts. Mature content.
1. In the Coat Closet

Oliver and Grace Warbucks waltzed effortlessly over the dance floor. Grace was always impressed by how light her husband was on his feet. He was such a wonderful dance partner, so strong, but gentle. She loved the feeling of him leading her firmly with his hand on her lower back. Every eye in the room was on the newlyweds who had only married four months previously. There had been speculation of a pregnancy, but Grace's ever trim stomach betrayed no hint of a baby.

"These Galas are much more enjoyable with you at my side," Oliver smiled at his wife. In his bachelor days, he would have spent the evening drinking at the bar by himself or arguing politics with business associates. "You are stunning. I am the envy of every man in New York City."

Grace blushed. She was oblivious to the effects of her beauty. She looked like a queen in her long flowing navy dress with a high neckline, open back, and a dangerously high slit up the side. She wore her hair half up with long loose curls cascading and a diamond tiara on loan from Harry Winston.

It was her first public event as Mrs. Warbucks, and she was anxious to make a good impression, especially on the other ladies. Oliver had gone around proudly introducing her to the socialites. She had known many of them as his private secretary, and some of them treated her as beneath them because of it. This elite circle all knew one another since childhood. They were debutants together, attended the same Ivy League schools, and were each other's bridesmaids. They did not welcome newcomers with open arms. They saw her as common, but also competition for attention. Not only was she beautiful and charming, but she could hold her own in an intellectual conversation. The men were different, for the most part. To them, she was just another gorgeous woman to behold.

Grace had grown tired of the chit chat with these people and longed to be alone with her husband. As the song ended, Grace whispered into Oliver's ear, "Oliver Warbucks, you are positively irresistible in a tuxedo. I want you," pressing her body closer to his.

"Here?" Oliver asked with surprise.

"Here," she looked at him with lust glowing behind her blue eyes. She had grown bolder in the past few months, unleashing years of pent up frustration. In public she was the picture of a proper lady, but behind closed doors she had become his personal vixen, fulfilling all of his fantasies.

He grinned conspiratorially and led her off the dance floor.

While the party raged on in the ballroom, Oliver and Grace slipped into the solitude of the hallway. He pulled her into the empty coat closet, checking to make sure no one had seen them enter, and shutting the door.

"Alone at last," Oliver pushed her up against the wall, pinning her hands above her head and kissing her passionately. They worked each other up into a frenzy, as their breathing became labored. His hands slipped under her dress, caressing her supple breasts, lightly pinching her sensitive nipples as she gasped with desire. After just a few minutes, Grace felt her burning need down below and begged him in her sultry voice, "Please, Oliver, take me now!"

He did not need any further encouragement. He pulled off her black lace panties from under her dress and entered her quickly. She moaned in pleasure and wrapped her long legs around him, giving him full control. He braced her against the wall for leverage, starting out with slow, deep thrusts. The thrill of being buried in the velvety warmth of his wife, knowing that someone could walk in and catch them at any moment, drove him wild. His pace quickened as he felt her nearing her climax. Her eyes were closed tightly, focusing on the pure bliss that he brought her. They tried to stifle their screams as they reached their peak together. The intensity of her orgasm brought tears to Grace's eyes. Oliver gently wiped them away, took her face in his large hands, and kissed her again.

"You are amazing," she rasped.

"Shhhh!" Oliver held his finger to her lips, as Grace giggled, giddy from the knowledge of their naughty little romp. If only those snobby society ladies knew about their affair in the coat closet. Surely that would give them something to talk about.

Punjab brought the Duesenberg around and Oliver helped Grace into the car. He slipped in beside her and checked his pocket for his wallet. He found Grace's black panties instead. He brought them to his nose, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. They smelled of her musky arousal, an odor that Oliver found so alluring. Oliver smiled and placed his souvenir back into his pocket for safe keeping. Yes, social events would be much more interesting with his lovely wife to accompany him. He held her hand, and she placed her head on his shoulder. They watched the snow fall as they sped home.


	2. Lazy Morning Love

Oliver and Grace were lounging in bed, reading the morning paper and drinking coffee. This had become their cherished Saturday morning ritual, as Annie took horseback riding lessons. Grace glanced over at Oliver, looking so serious. His forehead was furrowed, always worryied about current affairs. He looked like he needed to relieve a little tension. She set down the paper and rolled over to her handsome husband, kissing him and stroking his thick manhood through his silk pajama pants.

Oliver looked up from his paper with a start. Grace was so beautiful and fresh faced in the mornings: no makeup and hair flowing freely. He loved that he was the only one who got to see her this way, it was such an intimate version of his wife. He nibbled her neck gently, sending a cascade of shivers down her spine. Between kisses, he sighed into her ear, "Baby, that feels so good." She shimmied off his pants and gave his growing arousal a sweet kiss.

"Come here, I want to show you something," he pulled her to a seated position, straddling him. He began teasing her entrance lightly, running himself along her slippery folds over and over. She groaned her approval as he slowly buried himself into her. "Now you can control the pace and depth."

She bounced up and down tentatively at first, experimenting with the motion and angle. Gradually she started to find her rhythm. Her eyes flickered closed, losing herself in pure pleasure. Oliver loved seeing his wife indulging her sensual desires. It was such a turn on to see her so vulnerable and uninhibited, especially considering how conservative she was outside of the bedroom. She clenched him so tightly and arched her back in passion, cupping her breasts as she rode him harder. She was chasing her ecstasy and bringing him along with her. He grabbed onto her bottom and met her rocking motion with long deep thrusts. She ground into his pelvis again and again, enjoying every glorious inch of him, driving him deeper still. He reached up and began to trace gentle circles on her tender little button with his thumb. "Oh Oliver!" she gasped with delighted surprise, which gave into a guttural moan. His touch sent her over the edge, and he could feel her grip tightening around him in undulating waves. She collapsed on top of him, as his orgasm overtook him. They laid there together, still connected. Her hair falling into his face, and the gentle dew of sweat covering them. Her hands intertwined in his.

The lovers exchanged satisfied kisses when a knock came at the door. Oliver threw the sheets over them as Mrs. Pugh's head cautiously peeked in, "I just wanted to let you know that Miss Warbucks is home from her riding lesson." Few newlyweds have to contend with a curious child sneaking around every corner. She knew that their time alone was limited to rare stolen moments. The wise older woman had become their buffer, helping to keep Annie from walking in on her parents' amorous activities.

"Thank you, Mrs. Pugh. Please tell her that we will meet her at breakfast in just a few minutes," Oliver smiled. _She deserves a raise_ , he noted and got up to get dressed.


	3. Soul

Oliver had enjoyed many lovers in his lifetime. He had taken his pleasure and satisfied any woman, but making love to Grace was a completely novel adventure. There was a level of trust and respect that he had never before experienced. It went beyond the physical act, uniting their spirits and sharing their sacred energy. He wanted more than just her body. He longed to seduce her mind, to unravel the puzzle behind her mysterious blue eyes. He listened with rapt attention as she read poetry to him in her underwear, enchanted by the smoky sound of her voice.

Her shy smile enticed him in ways that another woman fully naked never could. She was simultaneously temptress and virgin. He loved that she could take control when the mood struck, but she would still blush with the innocence of a young maiden when he whispered something naughty in her ear. He relished the privacy of their marriage bed, and the fact that he was the only one to taste the sweetness of her love, but he also wanted to sing the praises of her sensuality to anyone who would listen. The things she did to him were not of this world. His desire for her burned infinite and unquenchable. The more he had her, the more he wanted her. Thoughts of her consumed his imagination so completely. They worked side by side as they had for years, but now he could feel the anticipation of their love making throughout the day. It was sweet torment to sit next to this exquisite creature without touching her. He would try to sneak a peek of her smooth thighs beneath her dress or brush inconspicuously against the curves of her soft breasts.

Grace knew just how to make him feel like a real man. She praised the beauty of his strong body and his ability to make her feel protected and loved. With her, making love could be soft caresses, gentle and slow, or it could be intense and animalistic, or even silly and playful. She was always surprising him anew. He had an unselfish desire to please her. He wanted to give and give and give again. He enjoyed nothing more than to spend hours making her squirm, bringing her right to the edge of release and holding her there until she was whimpering with want. She cried his name loudly and held him closely when she reached her peak. Her face in those moments was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen: so free and raw. He could see each violent wave of pleasure wash over her with the flicker of her dark eyelashes as the color in her cheeks rose. His own climax had never been so explosive. He could feel his entire body vibrate with unending passion, planting his seed deep within her. They prayed that it would take root, creating a new life together. When their love making was finished, he would hold her as they fell back down to earth together, spent. He would listen to her breathing as it slowly became more even, and she drifted off to sleep.


	4. Request 1

Grace had gone to her marriage bed with a heart full of fear and dread. Her sister's words from the night before echoed in her head, "Just lie there and let Oliver have his way with you. It will only hurt a little. You'll get used to it."

Grace did as her sister said: she laid down, shut her eyes tightly and held her breath. Oliver took one look at her and laughed good naturedly, "Grace, what are you doing?"

"I'm ready for you," she braced herself.

He sat down next to her on the edge of the bed, "Darling, if that is the kind of relationship that you want, I will respect your wishes, but it doesn't have to be this way. I do not want to use your body. I want to make love with you."

"Is it going to hurt?" she looked down sheepishly.

"A woman's first time can be painful," he sighed, wishing that he could offer another answer. "But I promise that I will be very gentle. We will go slowly and we can stop whenever you need to. I want this to be an enjoyable night for us both." True to his word, he took his time and while Grace did experience some fleeting pain, she also discovered a new world of ecstasy.

Grace was so grateful that she had never succumbed to the awkward fumbling advances of suitors from her youth. Waiting had been so difficult, but she had been richly rewarded. Oliver was an experienced lover, who understood her body better than she did. He took her pleasure as his responsibility, always making sure that she was satisfied. He intuitively knew where she wanted to be touched, when to speed up and when to slow it way down. She loved him completely: his smell, a mixture of expensive cologne and cigars, and the contrast of his strong masculine body against her slight frame, the weight of him when he was on top of her, the sound of his voice calling out her name. She felt honored that of all the women that Oliver could have, he had chosen her. Their intimate life enhanced the trust and respect that they had shared for years. When they united as one, she felt like she was sneaking a glimpse of the divine. She could feel the sacred energy coursing through her as she reached her peak. There was nothing between the two lovers: no secrets, no barriers. They were able to lay bare their souls to one another and share themselves fully. Grace opened herself to him like a flower, both physically and spiritually. It frightened her sometimes how much she needed him. In a short period of time, she had grown so reliant on the release he gave her. She felt like a slave to her desires and only he could set her free.

A few nights after the wedding, as they were coming down from their high, Grace was so awash in pleasure and eager to return Oliver's generosity in the bedroom. She begged her husband, "Darling, tell me how I can please you. I want to make you feel as good as you have made me feel."

"Grace, you have given me so much already. I cannot possibly ask for more," he smiled.

"Tell me what you like," she implored.

Oliver hesitated, "Well, there is one thing that I would like..."

"Anything."

"I would like it if you would pleasure me with your mouth..."

Grace frowned. She wanted nothing more than to fulfill Oliver's fantasies, but she had always considered that to be a vulgar act. It was not something that she imagined that a proper lady would do. Would he still respect her if she did it?

Oliver noticed her reaction, "Forget I mentioned it."

"No. Oliver. I'm just not sure..."

"Grace, I will never ask you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. You have made me a very happy man," he reassured her.

"Give me some time to think about it..." her sultry voice trailed off.

"You have all of the time in the world. I do not expect anything," he kissed her forehead gently.

To be continued…


	5. Request 2

Grace and her childhood best friend were in the palatial bathroom of their suite getting ready to see the New York City Ballet Company. She had never seen a professional ballet before and she had dreamed of going since she was a young girl. She had taken dance classes as a child and had a passion for it. She imagined the ballerinas with their long powerful legs, pirouetting effortlessly across the stage en pointe. She begged Oliver to take her for months. He finally acquiesced reluctantly. It was not something he particularly enjoyed, but he could never say no to her. They had rented the penthouse of the Plaza hotel for the occasion and invited Charlotte and her husband to join them for the evening.

"So, how is married life?" Charlotte asked as Grace artfully applied her red lipstick.

"Wonderful. We are settling in quite nicely."

"How is Oliver in bed? I imagine he's well endowed," Charlotte laughed lasciviously.

"Like I said, things are _wonderful_ ," she emphasized the last word. Grace had always been reserved and Charlotte had often teased her for it. Charlotte had many lovers and a lot of experience before she was married and she loved to share in great detail. Grace always listened with rapt attention, equally fascinated and embarrassed to know such intimacies about her friend. Charlotte was the only person with whom she felt comfortable discussing Oliver's request. He had not brought it up again since that night, but still it nagged in the back of Grace's mind.

"When you and Daniel...that is to say...have you ever...um...used your mouth?" she couldn't bring herself to say the words.

Charlotte laughed again, "You mean do I suck his cock?"

Grace's face went bright red. "Honestly, Charlotte, do you really have to use that kind of language?" she admonished her friend.

"I'm sorry Grace, you know I'm just giving you a _hard_ time," she grinned wickedly. "Yes, of course, every man likes that. Goodness, Grace-ious! Have you still not done that yet? You've been married for two months already. Oliver really is a saint!"

Charlotte looked at her modest friend who was smoothing her dress nervously, "I know it's a little daunting at first. It takes a little getting used to, but it's really not so bad. Relax your throat and bob up and down. The head is really sensitive, so make sure to give it extra attention. Every man is different, though; follow his lead. It's not a big deal. Everyone does it, but no one discusses it."

Grace looked up, smiling gratefully. She was still uncertain, but she was relieved to have some advice from her trusted confidante. She glanced up at the clock, "It's nearly time to leave. Are you ready?"

Charlotte dabbed a bit of perfume behind her ears, "Yes, off to the theatre!" She linked her arm through Grace's and the two women went to collect their husbands. They found the men drinking manhattans and arguing over the merits of The New Deal in the hotel bar.

"Ah, my sweet lady wife. You look positively radiant tonight," Oliver kissed Grace's cheek. She always took his breath away. She looked elegant in her long burgundy gown, cut just a bit lower than usual. The glittering diamond pendant he had given her drew his eye to her cleavage.

He whispered in her ear, "We could always skip the ballet and enjoy our own private performance."

She giggled and playfully slapped him with her clutch, "If you behave yourself tonight, I might be able to think of some way to reward you."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "Oh?"

"You know that thing you've been wanting me to do?" she let the question hang.

Oliver felt a shiver go up his spine as he imagined Grace's warm mouth wrapped around him. She loved to tease him in this way. She would give him an innocent look while whispering something naughty in his ear while they were out in public and could not satisfy themselves. Then she would turn around nonchalantly and go about as though they had merely been discussing the weather. It drove him mad with desire. He would be distracted with anticipation and pounce on her when they were finally alone.

Oliver interrupted Charlotte and Daniel's conversation, "Shall we be off, then?"


	6. Request 3

The ballet had been beautiful, everything that Grace had imagined and more. The dancers seemed to float effortlessly across the stage, bringing the story to life. Grace had been so absorbed in the ballet that she had quite forgotten her surroundings. She leaned up against the railing of their private box to get a closer look. Oliver was distracted by the sight of his stunning wife. He enjoyed watching the array of emotions playing across her face as she enjoyed the performance. She looked at him bashfully as he brushed a tear away from her cheek when the hero danced a solo expressing his despair in parting with his lover. In the end, the hero defeated the villain and won the hand of the fair maiden and all was right in the world once again. After the curtain fell, Oliver leaned over to his wife, "What did you think?"

"Oh, it was lovely," she breathed, clasping her hands to her bosom. "Thank you," she smiled and kissed his cheek.

As they made their way out of the theatre, Daniel turned to Oliver, "Charlotte and I are going to head down the street for a drink, would you care to join us?"

Oliver was thinking of Grace's suggestive comment in the hotel, but he dutifully deferred to her. "I think we are going to turn in for the night," she raised her eyebrows ever so slightly to her husband.

His face broke out in a childish grin. He cleared his throat, suddenly remembering Daniel's presence. "Ah. Yes. Um. We are going to head back to the hotel. Enjoy your evening," he said brusquely, eager for a moment alone with his wife.

They strolled down the street hand in hand. He pulled her aside against a street lamp and pressed himself against her, kissing her urgently. He was enjoying the anonymity of the big city. They could slip unnoticed through the crowds, just another pair of young lovers. They finally reached the hotel and waited for the elevator with mounting impatience.

Once the door closed, he pounced on her, attacking her mouth with hasty kisses. They reached the penthouse and made their way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake. Oliver was relieved that Daniel and Charlotte were gone. He threw Grace onto the bed and went straight to work licking hungrily at her folds. She sighed with pleasure and rubbed her hands against the smoothness of his head. He was anxious to be inside her and climbed onto the bed. Just as she felt him pressing against her entrance, she stopped him, "Wait, Oliver." He looked up in confusion. She pulled him up to standing and kneeled down before him, taking him in her hand, studying his length. She couldn't imagine how this was supposed to fit in her mouth, but she would try for him. She stroked a few times then tentatively licked at the tip where a bead of liquid was forming. He gasped at the feeling of her smooth wet tongue. She took a deep breath and sucked on his head then slowly taking him further into her mouth. She began to bob up and down when she felt Oliver run his hands through her hair. His excitement grew as they locked eyes. He felt his harness reach the back of her throat. "Oh yes, darling. That feels so good," he groaned lustily. The feeling of her warm mouth enveloping him was overwhelming his senses. He felt his climax approach, but he had something else in mind.

"Grace," he picked her up and bent her over the edge of the bed, spreading her pink lips. He slid his fingers inside of her, and lubricated himself with her juices. He took no more time, burying himself to the hilt. She moaned with surprise at the sudden forceful intrusion. "I need you so bad," he whispered into her hair and began at an unrelenting pace. He pounded inside of her hard, and she cried with want, "Yes, Oliver! More!" Her encouragement spurred him on. He kneaded her smooth firm bottom as he thrusted furiously. He had never been rough with her before, but he could not hold himself back tonight. She reveled in the intoxicating mixture of pleasure and pain, matching his strokes as best she could. She gripped the bedsheets as he bared into her with all his might.

"Beg me," he growled between clenched teeth.

"Please, Oliver!" she pleaded between gasping breaths.

He reached around and toyed with the place where they were joined. "What do you want, Grace?" he demanded.

"Let me come," she begged. She was beside herself with wonton desire.

"As you wish," the pinch of her sweet button sent her over the edge immediately and he felt her quiver around him. He continued thrusting through her orgasm, which only served to extend her pleasure. She was so overcome with ecstasy that she began to sob uncontrollably. He body went slack as she recovered. He let out an animalistic scream as he gave one final deep thrust and filled her womb to overflowing. He collapsed next to her, exhausted from the exertion. She snuggled into his arm.

"Well, did I do alright?" she asked shyly, looking for reassurance.

Oliver chuckled heartily, "Yes, my dear. That was amazing. Thank you," he kissed her deeply.


	7. Peep Show

"Grace, where are you going?" Oliver looked up from his desk confused. She was all dolled up as though she was going out to a very fancy event, with her in glossy curls and a full face of makeup, but she was wearing a long trench coat in the heat of the summer. He was suddenly worried that he had forgotten an engagement.

She locked the door behind her and dropped the coat. To his shock, she was wearing nothing but a lacy black corset, and matching panties, complete with garters and stockings. He had never seen her in something so provocative. She was so beautiful, she looked not quite real, like she had stepped out of a fantasy. Her small breasts were provocatively displayed with the help of the corset, and they swelled with each breath she took. He could see the rapid pulse of her heartbeat in her throat.

She arched a dark eyebrow suggestively and walked to him, sitting on his lap. She kissed him, massaging his tongue with her own as she undressed him. He pawed her breast through the corset, but she wagged her finger at him. "No touching," she smirked wickedly. Once she had him down to just his boxers, she sat him in the chair across from his desk. He admired her firm bottom as she leaned over the record player to put on some sexy jazz music. She danced along to the song, shaking her full hips and putting on a tantalizing show for him. He loved seeing her gorgeous curves bounce along with the tune. She made her way to the empty chair behind his desk and bent over, shimmying her bottom as she slowly pulled her panties down to the floor and tossed them to him. He caught them, inhaling her personal perfume. She sat down into the chair, putting her feet flat on the seat, her knees to her chest. She locked her eyes with his seductively and brought her hand around to her cleft, peeking out from between her thighs. He could see from there that she was already dripping with excitement. She spread her delicate pink lips for him, teasing her opening with her fingertips. "Oliver, you make me burn in a constant state of need. It's sweet torture to watch you sit here all day long looking so handsome in your suit when all I want to do is tear it off of you and let you take me right here. Look at how wet I am, so ready for you."

His hand absentmindedly went to the growing hardness in his boxers. He began to stroke himself as she traced small circles against her sweet little button. She looked up, "No, Oliver. No touching-"

"But I thought-"

"No, you naughty boy. If you can't play by my rules, I will be forced to bind your hands," she eyed his tie sitting on the desk.

Reluctantly, he leaned forward for a better view, clasping his hands together in front of him. She threw her head back and sighed as she lost herself in pleasure. "I need to feel your thick cock inside of me," he had never heard her use that word before, yet it sounded so natural coming out of her mouth. "I want you to take your time and explore every inch of my body," she continued as she gently sunk two small fingers inside of her slit, inhaling deeply. "Oh Oliver, that feels positively delicious" she licked her red lips seductively and began pumping her fingers painstakingly slowly, building up her pleasure gradually. She writhed in the chair, making sweet squeaks of delight.

Oliver was beside himself with want at this point. He had never imagined his demure wife engaging in self-gratification. He was so turned on watching her take control of her sexuality. It was such an intimate thing to witness and he was so glad that she felt comfortable sharing this with him. He felt like it was his own private peep show. His erection was straining against the confines of his boxers, desperate for release. "Grace, you are such a merciless tease!" he exclaimed.

"I'm right on the edge, Oliver. Should I finish on my own, or would you like to join me?" she looked up and gave him a wink.

She knew the answer without asking. Oliver jumped up at her question, ripping off his boxers and rushing to her. "Slow and deep, darling," she reminded him, her voice strained and breathy.

He bent her over his desk, and teased her soaking entrance with his cock. He rubbed back and forth slowly, until she whimpered with frustrated anticipation.

"Slow and deep," he repeated her words, easing into her with great restraint.

She gasped at the moment of penetration. She knew no greater pleasure. He paused, allowing her to savor the feeling. He gradually thrusted, pressing himself as deep as he could, sliding along her slippery walls. She reached back to massage his balls as he stroked her gently. "I'm coming," she shuddered beneath him. The contractions of her orgasm quickly brought him to completion. He kissed the nape of her neck as he buried himself into her one last time, finding the opening of her womb.


End file.
